


A Monster By Any Other Name (The 100 AU)

by justanotherblondewriter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Bellarke, Blood, F/M, Mount Weather, Mount Weather AU, MountWeather!Clarke, Reapers, Slow Burn, The 100 - Freeform, Violence, bellarke AU, grounder!bellamy, grounders, the 100 au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-10-13 12:09:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10513479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherblondewriter/pseuds/justanotherblondewriter
Summary: Growing up in Mount Weather, Clarke has lived a sheltered life. But after her eighteenth birthday rolls around, she's about to learn more about her people than she may just be able to handle. A grounder since birth, Bellamy has always known to avoid Mount Weather, but when he's captured by Reapers and finds himself in a medal cage, watching others of his kind hung up and drained of their blood, he knows he needs to find a way to escape before it's his turn. Will Clarke be able to fulfill her duty to her people, or can Bellamy convince her that it isn't his people that are really the monsters?(Will likely contain smut in the future, as well as violence and scenes of gore.)





	1. Beginnings

**Hello, everyone! Thank you for checking out my first story here on Archive.**

**I do want to go ahead and apologize as this chapter has not been beta-read and therefore may contain mistakes.**

**Hopefully you'll be able to see past them and enjoy the story!**

**Enjoy!**

**Clarke**

Finishing the last twist of her blonde braid, Clarke didn’t bother checking herself over in the mirror before she grabbed the new art kit her best friend, Wells, had given her for her birthday the week before. Ensuring it was closed tightly, she tucked it under her arm and left her room.

Seeing as she was in no real hurry, her steps were soft and even as she left the home she shared with her parents and passed door after door of other families just like her own. Stopping outside Wells’ home, she briefly thought about knocking but ended up deciding against it and continued on. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her friend, but rather, she felt she wanted some time alone. After all, being eighteen meant she’d need to start taking on more responsibilities at Mount Weather and it was about time she put some serious thoughts into her future and what that would mean.

Since she was thirteen she’d been helping her mother in the medical ward, learning first hand how to help aide the sick, how to comfort the dying, how to confront the inevitable. She didn’t know everything, of course, but her official apprenticeship was ending and she’d have to start working the shifts on her own now rather than following her mother or Jackson around. It was nervewracking to thick that soon people’s lives would be in her hands. Part of her was ready for the challenge and wanted to show just what she could do. But another part of her feared what could go wrong, and just how much truly weighed on her shoulders being in such a position.

As she reached her destination, Clarke looked around her, making sure no one was nearby before ducking underneath the steps to Level 5. Due to the way the steps were angled, it was almost impossible to see that there was any sort of room beneath the stairs. However, Clarke and Wells had found it when they were young and made a camp out of it. They were the only two people who knew it existed. Which was just the way they liked it.

Getting comfortable was easy as they had quickly made the small place their own; complete with a small number of blankets, four of five pillows, and a handful of snacks they’d snuck from the Mess Hall when no one had been looking. Switching on the battery powered lantern, Clarke was careful to set it on its lowest setting before setting up the tray she’d found to use as a makeshift drawing board. Laying out a sheet, she opened her art kit and selected a few colored pencils and got to work.

-

Three hours passed before Clarke finished the piece she’d been working on; a sunset disappearing over the mountain, with a small herd of horses running near the bottom. Though she’d never seen a horse in person before, Clarke was rather proud of what she’d created seeing as she’d only seen the animals in a handful of pictures. Setting the art aside with some of her other pieces, she cleaned up her work area and slid out from beneath the stairs.

The time alone had been nice, but she knew it could only last so long. She’d need to meet up with her mother soon as they had a few last minute things to go over before Clarke would be allowed to officially take on a role as one of the Mount Weather doctors.

Rounding the corner back to her room, her shoulder connected with someone else’s and she stepped back with a soft grunt. Wells stood in front of her, eyes wide in apology. “Sorry Clarke, I didn’t realize you were coming around the corner so quickly. I’m glad I caught you, though, your mom is looking for you. Said you were supposed to meet her about thirty minutes ago?” He said, tilting his head slightly.

“Thirty minutes ago?” Clarke echoed, tilting her own head in response. “What time is it.”

“Two forty-five.”

Blue eyes widening, Clarke cursed under her breath and stepped around Wells to break into a run. “Sorry, Wells! I gotta get going!” She shouted over her shoulder, rolling her eyes as he said nothing else but his laughter followed her down the hall and into her home.

Her dad was seated at the kitchen table, barely glancing up as she ran past him. “You’re late,” he called after her as she headed towards her room.

“I know!” She called back, throwing her art kit onto her bed and gripping the long white coat she was required to wear in the medical wing and quickly pulling it over her shoulders. Just as quickly as she was there she was gone, long legs sprinting down the halls and taking her into the elevator that would carry her to Level 3 where the medical labs were at.

As soon as the elevator doors were open, Clarke was down the hall and into the labs. Fixing her appearance, she gave Jackson a quickly smile and walked briskly to her mother would was standing next to one of the residence’s bed. Monty Green was his name, and he’d recently been admitted after suffering from some severe pain in his left knee. “Now, Mr. Green, our x-rays are showing us some pretty heavy inflammation in that knee of yours. Are you sure you didn’t do something to cause that? You and Jasper weren’t rough housing around the warehouse again, were you?” Doctor Griffin was no fool, especially not when it came to Monty and Jasper. The two of the were good-hearted guys, but they had a terrible habit of doing some of the dumbest things Clarke had ever heard of.

“No, Dr. Griffin. Not this time. I really just woke up with it all swollen.” Monty sounded genuine, but in truth, there was no telling.

A beat of silence passed before Abigail Griffin glanced back at Clarke, finally answering her patient. “Alright, well, I’m going to give you some pills that should help decrease the swelling. But if I find out you’re not taking it easy, we’re going to have problems. Understood?”

As Monty gave a nod Abigail turned to Jackson and nodded.

While Jackson went to retrieve the pills, Abigail turned back to her daughter. “Good of you to join us, Clarke. I was worried you were going to back out on me.”

Chewing on her bottom lip, Clarke did her best to ignore the feeling of guilt in her chest. “I know, I’m sorry. I let time get away from me. It won’t happen again.”

“I certainly hope not,” her mother replied, walking towards the other end of the medical wing and away from Monty. “This is an extremely serious position, Clarke. You have to prove you’re worthy of it.” She gazed at her only daughter closely, but not for long. “Once Jackson gets back, there’s some paperwork I still need you to sign and then I have one last thing to show you. Are you ready?”

Without missing a beat, Clarke nodded. “I am. I’m ready. I promise.” Getting only a head nod in reply, the younger Griffin was relieved to see Jackson returning with a small handful of papers in his hands.

“Alright,” he said, smiling at the two women and setting the paper on the desk in front of them. “Let me just say, I’m excited to see what you do here with us Clarke. Let’s get this paperwork signed, sound good? Then we can get things started.

Though Clarke smiled at the two of them, something felt off as she looked at the papers in front of her and a pen was pushed into her hand.

* * *

**Bellamy**

Flat on their stomachs in the middle of the woods, two men stared in front of them at the herd of deer munching calmly on the glass beneath their feet. Bows were strapped to their back, but neither made a move to reach for them just yet.

Bellamy was the older of the two, making him more experienced and the one in charge. Beside him was Murphy.

“I’m gettin’ real tired of layin’ down here in the dirt, Bell. Let’s just kill these fuckin’ things,” Murphy grunted, hand reaching up towards the bow and arrows on his back.

“Murphy, you pull that bow off your back and I’m gonna dig an arrow into your knee,” Bellamy warned voice low but still threatening. He’d been hunting since the day he’d turned eight, and he’d be damned if he let some wet behind the ears teen screw up the chances of the village getting dinner tonight.

The warning was enough, and Murphy resigned himself to grumbling quietly and letting Bellamy continue his observations.

Another fifteen minutes passed, and just as Murphy was sure he was going to stick an arrow into his own knee for the hell of it, Bellamy shifted quietly and began to stand. Following suit, Murphy was on his feet in moment, pulling out his weapon only seconds after Bellamy nocked his arrow.

“The doe on the far right,” he said quietly, not even looking at his partner. “That one is yours.”

Only about ten yards away, the deer should be a relatively easy shot for Murphy, who was still learning. He’d always done better with knives, but as he’d come to find out, there was only so much you could with one. “Okay.” Shifting his stance, he pulled back his bow and arrow, aiming carefully before finally releasing.

The arrow hit the beast right in the chest, startling it and sending it running. It would get far though. It would lose too much blood before then.

At the same time, Bellamy had made his own shot. A two-headed doe smack dab in the middle of the herd. She was massive, with enough meat on her to last the village quite some time. His arrow hit with enough force to crack through one skull and impale itself in the other.

“Show off,” Murphy grunted, making his way out to the now empty field, the rest of the deer having fled as the two had dropped.

Grabbing the makeshift pallet, Bellamy dragged it out to the deers. “You’re just pissy cause you’re impatient,” the older Grounder stated, reaching his kill. “Don’t worry Murph, one day you’ll be all grown up and you won’t need me to show you the ropes.”

Murphy’s only reply was a lip curled into a sneer.

-

Making the trekk back to the village was far much difficult with two grown deer to pull behind them, but Bellamy didn’t seem to mind it. With Murphy still pouting, the walk was unusually quiet and gave him time to reflect on recent events. Like Octavia and her new boyfriend, Lincoln.

Now, there was nothing wrong with Lincoln by any means. But Bellamy and grown up with him, and there had always been an unvoiced agreement between them that Octavia was off-limits.

At least, Bellamy had thought there was. But now with Octavia closing it on her eighteenth birthday, he was finding out that the two friends hadn’t been quite on the same page as he’d thought. And part of him was infuriated. Because though they wouldn’t admit to it, he could tell they’d been seeing each other before they’d gone and told him. He could see it in the way they’d exchanged glances when he asked how long they’d been together.

“You thinking about Octavia?” Murphy’s voice broke into his thoughts.

Bellamy’s brows furred. “No.”

“Bullshit.”

A pause. “Shut up, Murphy.”

“I’m just sayin’. You’re always thinking of her when you get quiet like that. Is it because of the whole Lincoln thing?” He asked, knowing full well he was poking places he shouldn’t be.

Glaring over his shoulder, Bellamy replied, “How the hell do you know about that?” He snapped. Octavia had only just told him last night. How did Murphy already know?

He shrugged. “I’ve known for a while. It’s kind of obvious with the way the two of-”

“You fuckin’ knew and you didn’t bother sayin’ anything to me?” Bellamy dropped the pallet holding their deer, ready to release the pent up tension in his shoulders.

Murphy’s hands raised, “Woah. I thought you knew a while ago, okay? Emori just mentioned it this morning that you didn’t know until last night.”

Bellamy shook his head, breathing heavily out his nose before reaching down to pick the pallet back up. “I swear, this is just-” The snapping of a branch caught both men’s attention and they froze, going quiet instantly.

Eyes scanning the surrounding forest, Bellamy’s entire body lit up with a feeling of unease. “We’re being hunted.” Just as the words left his lips, an echoing scream surrounded them and a man jumped from the bushes, a wicked blade gleaming in his left hand. “Reapers! Murphy, run!” Shoving the younger man forward, Bellamy grabbed him by the arm and dragged him along, leaving their deer behind them.

It became immediately clear that there were more than one as another handful of screams filled the air, followed by the sound of feet pounding the earth. Pushing Murphy forward again, Bellamy pulled the bow from his back and began nocking an arrow. It was difficult to get a clear shot when he was running in the opposite direction of where he needed to fire, but he managed to take down at least two and injure a third. Still, two more were gaining on them.

Facing toward to focus on running, he noticed how far ahead Murphy had gotten and felt relief. The moment was a distraction however as he was plowed into from the side with enough force to knock him off his feet and onto the ground, stealing the air from his lungs.

Shoving the Reaper above him to the side, Bellamy caught sight of Murphy turning around and heading back towards him. “No!” He commanded, rolling onto his feet as the Repear advanced on him again. “Get out of here! I can handle them!”

Hesitating, Murphy wasn’t so sure. “I said go, Murphy!” Bellamy yelled again, and finally, Murphy turned and ran once more.

Facing the two Repears that’d surrounded him, Bellamy bared his teeth and removed the knives strapped to his side. “Who’s first?” He growled, eyeing them up.

The two stepped back as if giving up, glancing behind Bellamy as they did so. Turning to see what had caught their gaze, his eyes widened as he had no time to dodge the fist that appeared out of mid-air, clocking him in the temple and knocking him out cold.


	2. Dotted Line

**Thank you to every who left kudos/bookmarked/commented on the first chapter! It means the world to me!**

**I do apologize for the wait on the second chapter and the fact that it's still a bit more filler.**

**Things will get much more interesting in chapter 3, I promise.**

**Enjoy!**

**Clarke**

The pen felt heavy in her hand, but Clarke didn’t falter as she signed her name a grand total of six times before Jackson finally told her she was done. Her mother had assured her that there was no real reason to read through the paperwork, that is was just standard things to help keep Clarke and her patients safe. Something about that didn’t sit quite right with Clarke, but she brushed the feeling off as just her being nervous. After all, she was becoming a doctor.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, there’s just the matter of that last thing I wanted to share with you,” Abigail said, a smile finally breaking out on her face. “I’m very excited to show you this, Clarke, because it’s something that we’ve been playing with for a couple of years now and we’ve finally gotten things set up in a way that has truly come to benefit our people.” Striding with confidence away from her daughter, Abigail headed towards the back corner of the room where a door with a sticker that read ‘Staff Only’ stood.

Clarke followed her, turning to see if Jackson was following them and he was. Catching up with her mother, Clarke followed her through the door and down a hallway. The temperature seemed to drop, causing goosebumps to scatter up Clarke’s arms. She rubbed at them a few times, shivering. “Mom, where are we going?” She asked cautiously, glancing behind her to see that Jackson hadn’t followed them down the hall, but instead had closed the door behind them.

Her stomach flipped and she looked back to Abigail. “Mom?” She said again, louder, after getting no return.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart. Then I’ll explain,” Abigail said.

A few minutes of silence passed as the two women kept on, the hallway eventually turning into a large cemented in room. There were three other doors and a place against the wall that held hazmat suits. Four of them were missing, leaving five hanging up. “Put one on, Clarke,” Abigail instructed, walking over to slip into one herself.

Still confused, and getting more and more irritated, Clarke did as she was told. Once the hat of the suit was on, she turned to her mother. “Will you please explain what this is about? I’m not liking this whole shroud of mystery thing, mom.”

Without another word, the older Griffin woman moved to the door to the left of them, typed in a pass key, and shoved it open, revealing yet another cement room. This one, however, was occupied and had large shower heads hanging from the ceiling as well as all along the far wall.

In horror, Clarke watched as three naked men were escorted in by rods and metal clamps around their necks. Shoved under the shower heads, they each cried out as scolding water was turned on and they were mercilessly scrubbed by those who were wearing the other hazmat suits. One man caught her attention; the way he all but roared as they rubbed his skin to the point of rawness, throwing chemical filled water across the top of his head as he fought them with every bit of breath he had left in him.

It would have been an inspiring show if it wasn’t so terrifying.

“What….What the hell is this?” Clarke asked, finding her voice. “Mom, who are these people? They’re hurting them!” She snapped, facing her mother.

“They’re Grounders, Clarke. Barely even human, nothing to be upset about.” Abigail spoke with a harsh indifference as if the men being Grounders meant they were no better than animals. “Once you see why we’re doing this, you’ll understand. Keep watching.”

Once the Grounders were completely clean, their skin red and dry from the treatment they received, the Mount Weather guards dried them quickly and put them into what could barely be considered more than rags to help cover them. They were almost dragged from the room, stumbled over themselves and each other in an attempt to keep from being choked.

Only moments later they were out of their suits and heading back through the hall Clarke had followed her mother through earlier. Instead of leading them into the medical lab, they turned right just before the door and entered another room that was new to Clarke. Right smack dab in the middle stood cages, more Grounders were inside of them.

Clarke was sure she was going to throw up.

The newcomers were put into three open cages and locked in immediately, leaving the guards to go about their business. “We’ve found an extraordinary use for a Grounder’s blood, Clarke. Due to their exposure to the outside radiation, they’re immune to it. They can survive out there. And when we use their blood, it helps heal our people who get radiation poisoning. Isn’t that incredible?” Abigail gushed, oblivious to Clarke’s churning stomach. “If we’re lucky, we may just be able to find a way to mutate their DNA so that with enough of it, we can survive out there ourselves.” She could hardly keep the excitement from her voice.

“Are…are they signing up for this?” Clarke’s eyes traveled to the Grounders. She couldn’t imagine that they were willingly signing up to be shoved into tiny cages. “Are they willing?”

Abigail didn’t answer for a moment. “No. No, unfortunately, they’re not. But in the long run, this is what we need to do for our people. We can’t keep like this forever, our people deserve to see sunlight too.”

Silence stretched between them, and Clarke continued to look at the Grounders. Her eyes shifted to follow the guards as they returned, pulling one of the Grounders out of the cages. “You said you needed one, didn’t you, Doc?” A guard asked, hand tightly gripping the thin arm of a young female Grounder.

“I do, yes. Please hang her up for people.”

Just when Clarke thought things couldn’t get any worse, bile rose up her throat as she watched the process in front of her. The Grounder was laid out on the floor, wiring attached to her feet as Dr. Griffin walked over to inject her with what appeared to be a sedative. Not that she appeared to need it with how little she fought. Next, she was set up with an I.V. and had another needle shoved into her arm, drawing blood easily from her vein. With that done, the guards hoisted her up into the air, her arms hanging down beneath her.

Hand over her mouth, it was all Clarke could do not to either panic or throw up. The sheer horror of what was going on before her left her speechless. Grounders scared her, that much was true. She’d heard stories of how primitive they were. Ugly and covered in tattoos, wearing bones on their faces, and animal skins on the backs. But the people she saw trapped in the cages were unlikely what she’d expected. They were…human. They looked as normal as the people she grew up with.

“I have to leave,” she blurted, unable to meet her mother’s gaze. She needed to get away from what she was seeing before it scarred her for the rest of her life. “This is a lot to take in. I need….Does President Jaha know about this?” She asked, eyes cutting to her mother. “Does dad know this is what you do?”

Abigail sighed. “Jaha does know, yes. He doesn’t always like it, but he understands the necessity. Your father…No, he doesn’t. And you can’t tell him.” She faced Clarke fully, arms over her chest. “This is confidential stuff, Clarke. Only a few select guards know about this. And Jackson and I were the only medical staff involved. Now, you are too. Those papers we had you sign are your agreement to keep this information to yourself.” Reaching out, she ran a hand over Clarke’s cheek, smiling sadly. “I know this isn’t an easy thing to take in, but it’s important. Our people deserve better Clarke, and the Grounders can help us achieve that.” Digging into her pocket, Abigail produced a set of keys. “These are yours. When you’re feeling up to it, have a look around the Harvest Chamber and get a better understanding of it. We’ll start you up next week.”

Hands shaking, Clarke took the keys and nodded, unable to say anything else. Sliding the keys into the pocket of her own lab coat, she left the room, and then the medical ward. She needed to get back to her own room. She needed to clear her head.

* * *

**Bellamy**

Eyes cracking open, Bellamy found himself on his knees, shoulders slumped forward. Every part of him felt like it was being held down with extra weight. The sound of Reaper growls echoed around him and he blinked, trying to get a better look at his surroundings. Head tilting up, he looked side to side to see that he’d been taken to what appeared to be some sort of cave. The only thing that made him think it was more was the metal door to his left and the tracks and massive metal bin off to the side. 

Five more Grounders were to his left.

As he scanned their faces he realized none of them were Murphy. Relief filled him. At least the little idiot had gotten away.

The screeching of metal on metal caught his attention and his head whipped back around to the door, watching as white people-shaped…things appeared from behind it. 

Mountain Men. His jaw clenched.

They said very little to one another as the Reapers rushed to them, pulling hastily at anything covering their necks.

The Mountain Men produced syringes filled with some sort of red liquid and injected each Reaper before they surveyed the Grounders. Bellamy couldn’t make out what was being said, but he was eventually yanked to his feet. He, along with the others, was dragged through the door only to be separated into two groups. Immediately after, metal clamps were locked around their necks and short metals poles locked onto them. The cold metal bit into his skin, no doubt leaving behind red markings and bruising.

Still a little foggy from the hit he had taken, it was all Bellamy could do to stay upright as they shoved against the collar to get him walking. He thought about speaking up but decided against it. He’d heard stories that Mountain Men were more ruthless than even the Reapers. It would be best if he played dumb and quiet before escaping. Let them think him weak and slow.

Every door they went through, every hall they walked down, Bellamy took note of it. He’d need to remember his way out. He wasn’t going to die inside this cement hole.

They stopped outside a door momentarily, where he was forcibly stripped down and left in nothing.The next room he was shoved into was different and as he glanced to the other door that led into the room, he could see two other Mountain Men in white getups watching him and the other Grounders.

Before he could think much of it, scalding water came from nowhere, almost buckling his legs. A cry of pain pushed itself passed his lips and he jerked against his collar. It only got worse as something hard and bristly was pressed into his skin, aggressively rubbing against him. Head thrown back, he let out a sound he’d never made before. Still exhausted, there was little else he could do.

What seemed like hours was likely only minutes, and finally, he was given something to cover himself with. Tired and still in pain, Bellamy stumbled with the others where the collars directed him. All he wanted to do was collapse and sleep for a year. His body shook with the trauma it went through.

They paused momentarily to allow those wearing white suits to remove them, and Bellamy couldn’t say he wasn’t shocked by how normal they all appeared. They looked like goddamn babies. No tattoos, no scars, no markings of any kind.

But it was shortest of the group that caught his eye and he could only stare at her, taking in just how blonde her hair was. It was rare for Grounder women to have such light hair, let alone such light skin. And here this woman had both.

Was woman even the right word? She looked younger than him.

Jolted from his thoughts by a sharp tug, Bellamy let himself be led down a hall and into what he hoped would be the last room he saw.

Spying the other Grounders locked in cages, he was certain it would be.

Within moments he found himself shoved into a cage of his own, legs and arms cramped as they locked him in. If he’d had more strength, Bellamy was sure he’d have tried to listen in on the conversation going on between the group. 

But as he got as comfortable as the cage would allow, his eyes grew heavy again. The last thing he saw was a female Grounder being pulled from her cage before his eyes refused to stay open any longer.


	3. Deal With the Devil

**So working 40 hours a week is 10 times harder than I ever expected it would be.**

**But I wanted to get this chapter out, so I busted my butt to get it to you all.**

**Thanks for all the love! Enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!**

 

**Clarke**

Going back home hadn’t been an option, so instead, Clarke had spent the last four hours doing everything in her power to avoid everyone else. Even Wells, though she hated knowing how worried he would end up being about her. She couldn’t help it, unfortunately. After what she’d learned from her mother, she wasn’t sure she could share it with anyone else. Not to mention, there was a chance that Wells knew about the experiment. After all, his father was the President. And while Clarke knew Wells was as good as they came, she also knew he had to make some tough choices being the son of Thelonious Jaha.

She’d managed to find some solitude on Level 2, near the science labs. Most of the workers were heading home for the night, seeing as it was nearing six o’clock. They’d likely go back home before heading to the Mess Hall on Level 5, where everyone would be meeting for dinner. Clarke was going to opt out of dinner, she’d decided as the last worker locked the science lab behind them as they left. Her stomach still lurched and rolled, trying to keep what was left of her lunch down. The images of the Grounder being hoisted upside down into the air still sat in her head. If she thought about it too long, bile would rise in her throat, threatening to spew past her lips.

Hand slipping into the pocket of her white jacket, her fingers wrapped around the cold metal of the key that’d allow her access to the Harvest Chamber. The name itself gave her chiils. Lifting it out, she examined it and sighed, closing her eyes for a brief moment. Opening them, she knew she had to go back to the Harvest Chamber. She had to see everything for herself. Maybe there had been something she’d missed, something to make sense of what her mother was doing.

Leaving Level 2, Clarke made her way back to the medical labs. As she reached them, she peeked in through the glass window on the door, making sure her mother and Jackson were nowhere to be found.

With no sign of them, she opened the door and slid it closed quietly behind her, taking a moment to look around again. The coast seemed clear and she wasted no time heading towards the door her mother had shown her earlier.

It wasn’t until she lifted the key towards the door did she realize just how badly her hand was shaking. Taking a deep breath, Clarke did her best to steady herself and insert the key, turning it to the right as she twisted the knob. It swung open easily, revealing the room just as it was when she’d left it. The only difference being that none of the Grounders were strung up and being drained. A breath she didn’t know she was holding released, her right hand coming up to press against her heart. It still beat frantically under her touch.

Swallowing, Clarke moved deeper into the room. Most of the Grounders seemed out of it, either too exhausted or too drugged to notice her. But at least one was very much awake, and his dark gaze was fixated on her. His lips pulled back into a snarl, revealing teeth that seemed sharper than her own. Her tongue ran along the teeth in her mouth. Was this some type of evolution? Had the Grounders teeth sharpened as a way to help them eat? What did they eat? How were they surviving? What did the tattoos all over their bodies mean?

Clarke opened her mouth, ready to start asking, but the man cut her off. He spoke quickly and loudly, the words sharp and bitter. But Clarke couldn’t make sense of it. She tilted her head to the side, shaking her head as he continued to speak. “I can’t…I don’t know what you’re saying,” she said, defeated. Disappointment filled her. This would have been such an opportunity to learn about that culture, but she should have known a language barrier would arise.

“I said, what do you want, she-devil? Come to string me up? Perhaps you’ll torture me? Is that what you want to do, you sick bitch?” He snapped, hands wrapping around the cold bars of his cage. Before Clarke had time to react, he suddenly spit at her, covering the front of her jacket in his slimy saliva.

Her mouth dropped open and she looked at him and the spit that was now dripping down the front of her. How did one react to that? “You speak English,” she finally mumbled, more to herself than him. Ignoring the spit, her eyes looked back to him. “You speak English and your own language. That’s amazing.” Swallowing, Clarke began to pace. Two separate languages? Why would he need to learn something other than the one the Grounders spoke? And why did they revert to something other than English in the first place?

“Wait.” Her headed jerk back to him. “I’m not here to torture you. I’m…I’m sorry this is happening to you,” she admitted. “I had no idea this was going on until earlier today. If I knew how to stop it, I could. But I don’t have that kind of power.”

The Grounder showed no outwards signs of believing her, but she couldn’t blame him. Still, she was disappointed when he sat back in his cage and crossed his arms over his chest. It appeared he had nothing else he wanted to say. 

It did allow her to take a moment to look him over. He was built unlike any of the people at Mount Weather, she noted. He was all broad shoulders and thick muscle, while her people were much thinner. The tattoos he bore wrapped around both arms, some traveling up his neck to just behind his ears, while others slid down around his chest and gathered at his navel. Her curiosity poked at her, tempting her to ask him to turn so that she might see his back. The angry gaze he had leveled on her was enough to help her keep her mouth shut, however.

Giving him one last look over, Clarke moved down the row to look at the others. Just about each of them had tattoos of their own, none of them like the next. It only fascinated Clarke. She just wished she could actually talk to some of them in a better situation than the one happening before them. She tried a few times to speak to them, though most either turned their back on her or simply didn’t reply. Disappointed as she was, she wasn’t surprised. How would she react in their situation?

Just as she was about to give up, Clarke noticed the first Grounder she spoke to was still watching her. Unable to stop herself, she walked back over to him.

* * *

 

 **Bellamy**  

Bellamy watched as the blonde girl walked towards him. She was an open book, he noted. Her face completely showed her curiosity, her confusion, and her fear. It made him feel slightly better that she was scared of him. But there was another part of him that hated it. She must view him as some sort of uncivilized monster. All the Mountain Men must, considering he and others like him were locked in cages like fucking animals.

Still, despite his anger at her and her people, Bellamy was just as curious. She wasn’t anything like he’d expected. None of the Mountain Men he’d seen had been. They lacked tattoos and their skin didn’t have much of the same pigment as his own, but they looked similar in so many ways. And this one girl….

He bared his teeth at her as she came closer, his anger rolling through his thoughts as she frowned. “Come closer and I’ll spit on you again.”

“My name is Clarke,” she said suddenly, catching him off guard.

Something about the name suits her, he decided. It wasn’t a name he’d heard before, but she was unlike anyone he’d met before. So it just seemed to fit. “You must be proud,” he grunted, rolling his eyes. “But unless you’re here to release me, we have nothing to talk about.”

Her eyes softened and he hated the look of pity that flickered in their depths. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I wish I could but-” Her mouth closed and she looked down. Bellamy didn’t feel sorry for her. “I can’t.”

“Then get the fuck out of my sight.” Turning his back on her, Bellamy did his best to find a comfortable position within the tight cell.

When he didn’t hear the sound of her footsteps retreating, he knew he hadn’t gotten rid of it. He glanced over his shoulder to find her still very much there, still staring at him. He huffed. “ _What_?”

“Your tattoos. What do they mean?”

His eyebrows rose, surprised she cared about the tattoos he bore. “They’re just symbols,” he explained without meaning to. “Each clan member has didn’t ones. They’re a unique identifier.” Internally cursing himself for explaining, Bellamy huffs and turns around again. 

This doesn’t seem to deter Clarke, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her walk around the cage that she was in front of him again. Everything about her was fascinated by him, and it left him with a weird feeling. Half torn between a strange bit of flattery mixed with annoyance that she refused him his solitude.

“Some of the others have scars, but they are similar to tattoos. They seem intentional. Is that supposed to be like the tattoos? Or are they different?” She asked.

It had become unbearably clear that this Clarke girl wasn’t going to leave until she got what she wanted. Even if she had to be weird about it. It did give Bellamy an idea though. “Why do you even want to know?” He asked back. “Why ask questions about the people you plan on killing?” He let a thick venom into his tone. He wanted her to feel as badly as he could.

Clarke wanted answers, that much Bellamy could pick up on. She was young, bright-eyed, and full of a nïave curiosity about the world and things she didn’t understand. Which meant she was the perfect target to manipulate. If Bellamy worked it right, he was sure he could twist Clarke’s feelings towards the Grounders and eventually use them against her.

It would take time, he was sure. But so long as he could keep himself from being strung upside down in the the meantime, he was sure that within the next week he could get Clarke to release him, all the while making her think it was her own idea.

It was obvious from the way Clarke’s eyes shifted back towards the floor and her hands came together that she felt instantly guilty at Bellamy’s words. “I don’t want to kill anyone,” she said softly. “This isn’t on me!” Her voice finally escalated, shocking Bellamy. “I’m sorry this happened to you, and I’m sorry this is happening to your people. I had no idea this was going on until recently.” Her blue eyes were suddenly alive with her own anger as she met his gaze.

Before him now stood a young woman he had no idea existed. Her child-like curiosity had hidden this internal flame. “I ask because I care and because I want to learn more about you and your people. There’s never been a chance to interact like this, at least not that I know of. And I don’t want to waste it by hating you.” She shook her head at him, and he was certain she was disappointed in him. As if he was somehow to blame for everything.

“So I should just tell you about my people?” He chuckled without humor. “Give out my people’s secrets so you can round more of us up for your sick pleasure?” He nodded towards the other Grounders in the cages. “You must truly think of my kind as a bunch of idiots.”

“The only idiot I see here is you,” she snapped. Fists clenched at her sides, she stepped towards his cage. “It’s no wonder you ended up in one of these cages. We have a chance here to show our people to one another, to learn from each other. And God, who knows? This could help our people better understand each other. Do you know what that could mean?”

When Bellamy didn’t respond, Clarke continued. “It could mean the end of this…whatever this is,” she said, gesturing to the room around them. “Together we could probably work past that…somehow. I don’t…” Her words shriveled up and fell.

“If you want to learn about my people, you have to do something for me.” He sat up as straight as he could manage, looking down at the blonde Mountain Man girl in front of him. She nodded. “I want food. And not once will I end up with my feet above my head. If you swear to those terms and keep them up, I’ll tell you what you want to know about my people.”

Bellamy wouldn’t give up on his plan. He was still going to try and manipulate Clarke’s feelings. She was a strong one, he wouldn’t deny it, but her emotions were stronger than she dared admit. With a bit of work, he could get what he needed from her. “Do we have a deal?” He asked.

Clarke nodded. “We have a deal. Starting tomorrow.”

She turned on heel, striding quickly from the room. His mouth dropped slightly, having not quite expected her to leave so soon. But he supposed it didn’t matter.

Sooner rather than later he’d be out of that cage. It would just take time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Getting this chapter out a little quicker than normal, but after the last episode, I couldn't help myself!**

**So much good Bellarke forgiveness, love, caring, all of it.**

**Enjoy!!**

**Clarke**  

The moment Clarke left the Harvest Room, her demeanor fell. Talking to the Grounder had been exhilarating, and extremely frustrating. He’d been rude and stubborn, refusing much more information than what she already knew. Sighing, Clarke knew she couldn’t blame him. Being shoved into a cage half his size would make anyone irritable. Not to mention, he had a front row seat to his people being drained of their blood.

A deep breath in and out, she finally let her frustration go. The Grounder would come around, of that, she was sure. It would take time, and finding out how to make sure he didn’t end up being strung up would be difficult, but Clarke was ready for the challenge. Squaring her shoulders, she strode back towards the Mess Hall. She’d be there late, but it was unlikely anyone would notice. Except for Wells, that is.

As she arrived, she found she’d been right. No one batted an eye at her late entrance. No one but Wells, who sat in their usual spot, eyeing her suspiciously over his food.

She nodded at him before going through the line to grab her own meal before heading to her spot across the table from him. It stressed her out not being able to tell him, but Clarke couldn’t risk Wells going to his father. She loved her best friend, but she knew him well enough to know that he wanted very little more than his father’s approval. Her eyes shot to her parents, who sat a few tables down, talking happily with friends. She knew exactly how Wells felt.

“Where have you been?” He asked, hardly waiting for Clarke to take a seat.

She waited until she was comfortable before finally meeting Wells’ eyes. “I did some walking around to clear my head,” she said, knowing it wasn’t exactly a lie. “I ended up by the Science Labs and stayed there for a bit.” She shrugged, picking up her fork to begin eating.

“Why did you need to clear your head?” Wells persisted, shoving a mouthful of food past his own lips. “You usually come talk to me.”

Looking up at him, Clarke gave a lopsided smile. “First day on the job was much more stressful than I’d expected. So much more to learn than I’d ever thought.” Still, wasn’t a lie. “I just couldn’t take it all in at once and felt like I needed some time to think. I wanted to make sure this is still the route I want to take.”

“And what did you decide?”

Her mind went straight back to the Grounders back in the Harvest Chamber, the one she spoke to specifically. She could still envision his dark eyes and the freckles that seemed so chaotically splattered over his nose. “I’m going to stick with it. Learn all I can.”

Wells smiled, pleased with her answer. “Good. I think that’s a smart idea.” Having been in the Mess Hall longer than her, he was just about down with his food. “You got some free time tonight then, Miss Doctor? Or can you spare some time for your lowly wannabe guard friend?”

Snorting, Clarke rolled her eyes. “First off, you’re not lowly. Second, yes. Let me finish eating first, but I could definitely use someone one on one time with my best friend.”

\---------

Sleep proved all but impossible that night. Clarke tossed and turned, unable to think of much else but the Grounder she’d talked to. She was excited to get back to him, to begin the deal they’d made. Rolling onto her side, she grunted as the clock read that it was only just past five in the morning.

She couldn’t wait anymore though. Sitting up, Clarke got out of bed quickly and headed into the bathroom she shared with her parents. A quick five-minute shower later, she was wrapped up in a towel and picking out an outfit for the day.

By the time she was finished getting ready, it was only five-thirty. She huffed and slung her bag over her shoulder.

Wells wouldn’t be up by now, and she couldn’t imagine the Grounder would be too thrilled to be woken up at this ungodly hour. The Mess Hall would be open though. And now would be a perfect time to grab one of those meals she’d promised the Grounder.

It took some control, but Clarke managed to keep a calm pace on her way to pick up her food. Grabbing a tray, she smiled at the woman across the counter from her, Gina. “Good morning, Gina. What’s on the menu today?” She asked, beaming.

“Oatmeals and strawberries today,” Gina replied, returning the smile. “You’re up pretty early, Clarke. Got something going on today? A new murial to draw?” She asked, eyebrow raised.

“Not today. Just excited to get to work and couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d get my morning routine out of the way.” She shrugged.

Gina nodded, “I heard about you finally becoming a doctor. Should I refer to you as Dr. Griffin from now on?” She asked teasingly as she took Clarke’s tray and filled it.

Clarke laughed, shaking her head. “No. Just Clarke is fine.”

“If you say so.” Handing back her tray, Gina added. “Congratulations, Clarke. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

"Thanks, Gina. You too.” 

Taking her tray, Clarke waited until no one was looking before sneaking out of the Mess Hall. It wouldn’t be too long of a walk to the elevators and then to the Medical Labs, but there was always a chance she’d run into someone, so she tried to keep her pace quick.

Luck was on her side that morning it seemed as she stepped into the elevators without so much as a hello from anyone. Taking a deep breath, she ignored the growling of her stomach as the scent of warm oatmeals and strawberries swirled in the confined area of the elevator.

When the door finally opened, she all but jumped out and right into Raven Reyes. “Oh!” She gasped, stepping back just in time to avoid spilling the hot food all over her friend. “Raven! What are you doing down here? And so early, too?”

Raven held up her hand, revealing a bandage around her wrist. “Wick bet me breakfast for a week that I couldn’t repair one of the turbines without taking it apart.”

Clarke frowned, “You lost a bet to Wick?”

“What? Of course not. I won. I just got a little banged up in the process. Nothing a week of rest won’t fix,” she said smugly, her usual beaming smile lighting up her face. “Not that I’m going to rest.”

Laughing, Clarke shook her head. “I should’ve known better. Still, glad to see it’s nothing too serious. Sinclair would have Wick’s head if he did something that got you hurt.”

Raven laughed as well. “Damn right. But hey, I gotta get going. You, me and Wells need to get together soon, got it? I haven’t seen you two in ages.”

“Definitely,” Clarke agreed, relieved Raven was too caught up in her own stuff to even notice Clarke had brought food to the Medical Lab with her. “I’ll let Wells know and we’ll get a hold of you.”

The two women stepped around each other, Raven stepping back into the elevator. “Sounds like a plan, Dr. Griffin.” She gave a mock salute, accompanied by a wink. She pressed a button inside the elevator. “You’ll have to tell me why you’ve got food in the Medical Lab for, too,” Raven added, just as the doors closed between them.

“Shit,” Clarke muttered. She should have known better than to think she’d gone under Raven’s radar.

That was a problem for another day. Hurrying past the entrance to the Medical Lab, Clarke balanced the tray of food in one hand as she unlocked the Harvest Chamber door with another. Pushing it open quietly, she stuck her head in to make sure no one had come in just yet.

Finding it empty other than the cages, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

 

* * *

**Bellamy**

Soft jabs at his shoulder were what pulled Bellamy from his sleep, and he blinked a few times as he finally registered the cold metal bars pressing into the side of his face, accompanied by the string of drool that dripped from his chin. Sitting up straight, he grunted as he finally remembered what all was going on. A crick in his neck caused him to stiffen, but he wasn’t blind to the fact that the blonde girl - Clarke had returned.

The scent of food hit his stomach hard and he glanced down to what she held, eyes landing immediately on the strawberries. Without so much as a ‘thank you’ he shoved his hand through the bar and grabbed a fist full of the sweet fruit and began popping them into his mouth. The strawberries made him feel almost ten times better and he readjusted himself inside the cage, stretching out as best he could.

“What’s in the bowl?” He asked, eyeing the mushy tan mixture.

“It’s called oatmeal. It’s just crushed oats boiled in milk. It’s pretty good.” Lifting the bowl, they both stopped as they realized it wasn’t going to fit between the bars of the cage. “I’ll hold it while you eat,” she offered, handing him the spoon.

Feeling foolish, but too hungry to care too much, Bellamy grabbed the spoon and scooted closer to the edge as he began to eat. The soup-like mixture was good, as Clarke had said. He ignored the groans of the few Grounders that had woken up already, simply enjoying the feel of strength coming back to him. Within a few minutes, the oatmeal was gone and Bellamy was satisfied.

She took the bowl and spoon away, setting them aside. “Told you it was good,” she told him, smiling.

Perhaps it was just because he was full, but Bellamy found himself smiling back. “Yeah, it was alright.”

A moment of silence stretched out between the two of them as if both were unwilling to break the comfortable calm they’d created. 

Finally, Clarke spoke. “So, uhm, tell me about the tattoos again. You said they’re a unique identifier. Does that mean everyone has them?”

Bellamy watched her a moment, taking note as she dug through a bag she had with her. Pulling out some paper and a pen, she looked up at him expectantly. “As far as I know, we all have them,” he began.  “I can’t think of a Grounder I’ve seen without them. Some of us use them to display our loyalty to our clans, others to express themselves. Some use them as reminders of things of the past, people of the past.” He shrugged. “I’m sure some just like the way they look, too.”

Clarke nodded, scribbling away at the paper she held. “You said clans, as in multiple. How many are there?”

Stiffening at the question, Bellamy wasn’t sure it was one he wanted to answer. Giving away too much information about their numbers could be a bad idea. He still wasn’t sure what Clarke wanted with all this information, anyway. “More than ten,” he said.

Her blue eyes lifted to search his face, but she didn’t press for a more specific number. Just wrote it down. “Do the clans ever meet up? Is there peace between them all?”

For the next hour, Bellamy answered each of Clarke’s questions. Without realizing it, he grew more and more relaxed in her presence. Even she relaxed, eventually sitting down on the ground and looking up at him as he explained things to her and she jotted them down in her notebook.

“Do you have family?” She asked, finally. This time though, she set her notebook aside.

“My clan is my family,” he said softly. His head was rested against the bars of his cage as he looked down at her. Not sure whether it was because the room around them seemed to be nothing more than boring shades of grey or something else, Bellamy found himself enjoying the sight of Clarke.

Cross-legged on the floor, her vibrant gold hair and sparkling blue eyes seemed out of place. She looked like a beacon of...he shook his head. It was foolish to look at her like that. Clarke was his ticket out of this hellhole, nothing more.

“I mean, like siblings. A mother? A father?” She asked, tilting her head. A strand of hair fell over her shoulder, nestling against her chest.

Bellamy ignored the heat in his stomach. “I have a sister. I never knew my father and my mom was killed when I was a boy.” Clarke’s face fell and he grunted, “Don’t give me that pitying look, Clarke. I hate it.”

Doing her best to change her expression, she nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m just sorry for your loss.” The side of her mouth tipped into a sad smile.

He shrugged. “It was years ago.” Octavia was still out there, though. And Bellamy knew he needed to get back to her. Lincoln or no Lincoln, Octavia was his little sister. And that meant she was his responsibility.

And if the _fleimkepas_ came...

He couldn’t bear to think of it. 

“So you have a sister,” Clarke spot, pulling him back to his reality. “What’s her name?”

Noting her notebook was still to the side, Bellamy decided a little personal information wouldn’t hurt. “Octavia. She’s my little sister.”

“How old is she?”

He smiled, “She be eighteen in a few weeks.” She’d be telling everyone in the village for that last year that she’d be eighteen soon. As if being eighteen held any sort of importance as it had a hundred years ago. But Bellamy hadn’t tried to deter her excitement. And Lincoln had been just as supportive.

Lincoln. He hoped his old friend was taking good care of Octavia while Bellamy was gone. Rather, he knew Lincoln was. Despite Bellamy’s original annoyance at the two of them having grown so close, he was grateful now. They could take care of each other until he got back.

Clarke stood, once again bringing Bellamy out of his thoughts. “I should probably get going,” she said, pulling her notebook to her chest. “My shift will start soon and I need to make sure my mom doesn’t pick you today.”

Bellamy nodded, his mood dropping. “Right. Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” he joked.

A chuckle passed her lips, “I’ll see you around.”

One more long moment passed between them before Clarke turned and left the room, leaving Bellamy alone with nothing more than groaning Grounders and his own thoughts.


	5. Movie Night

**Sorry this update too so long to get to. I've been busy with work, and moving, and possibly moving again.**

**That and a bit of writers block, sadly.**

**But here's the newest chapter! Hopefully, it'll clear up a few things people had questions about.**

**Thanks for sticking with me, and as always, enjoy!**

**Bellamy**

Bellamy didn’t want to admit it, and he sure as hell wouldn’t admit it aloud, but watching Clarke leave the room left him with a loneliness in his gut. The other Grounders weren’t much for conversation, but with all the sedation in their systems, he couldn’t say he blamed them. Afterall, he was struggling to push past that himself. Even after being awake and being fed real food, the effect of the drugs in his system were hard to overcome.

Rubbing a hand along the edge of his jaw, he felt a tingle go up his spine and turned. The Grounder in the cage next to him was staring straight at him, offering a narrow gaze that held enough heat to melt glaciers. “What?” Bellamy huffed.

“What’s going on between you and that girl?” She asked, eyebrow raising in accusation. With hair as dark as her eyes, the Grounder wasn’t thin, but rather well muscled. She appeared to be a warrior, but it was hard to tell considering she was crouched in a cage.

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “We’re forbidden lovers,” he shot at her sarcastically.

The female Grounder bore her teeth at him, “Fuck you.” She spat at him, but her saliva fell short. “I’m serious. No one else has some pretty, little girl bringing them food, but you do? What’s that about?” 

“I’m using her to get out of this hellhole, what’s it to you?” Bellamy couldn’t believe the nerve of this woman. How could she possibly be so dumb that she couldn’t figure that out herself?

“Well you’re lucky the others were either asleep or too drugged up to notice cause you’d have had a riot on your hands,” she said, a warning in her tone.

He managed to give a dry laugh. “What’re they gonna do inside their cages? Spit at us?” He mocked.

Her hands wrapped around the bars of her own cell and it at all possible, her glare darkened. “Funny. These Mountain Men don't get manipulated, they manipulate. You're playing with fire. I doubt that girl is as innocent as she seems. But I’ll be here to say 'I told you so' when this whole thing backfires in your face.”

“If you live that long,” he grunted, turning his back to her and leaning up against his cage. 

Though they fell quiet, Bellamy knew the girl had a point. The other Grounders wouldn’t be too thrilled to see him receiving special treatment. They’d have to be more careful.

* * *

 

**Clarke**

Leaving the Harvest Room, she closed the door behind her and looked around. Her mother hadn’t shown up yet, and for that, she was grateful. It would give her a few extra moments to steady herself. The conversation she’d had with the Grounder had left her feeling even worse about what he was going through.

He was human, just like her. And he had a family, like everyone else in Mount Weather. How could her people be doing this? How could her mother be a part of this? She felt tears threaten to well up in her eyes, but she blinked them back.

Now wasn’t the time to get emotional. Straightening her shoulders, Clarke strode over to her station in the medical labs and put her backpack aside to slide into her lab coat.

“Clarke, I’m surprised to find you here so early,” her mother said, causing Clarke to turn and greet her. “Though I should have guessed you’d be here when I didn’t find you in your room this morning, or at breakfast with Wells.”

“Couldn’t contain my excitement,” she lied, offering up a convincing smile. “So, what are we going to do today?”

———

Seven hours later, Clarke was certain she was dead on her feet. Her back was sore from leaning over patients’ beds, her fingers cramping from jotting down notes, and her eyes dry from looking into microscopes.

How she managed to stay on her feet was anyone’s guess.

Her mother had left thirty minutes ago, but Clarke had wanted to stay behind to finish transferring files to their computers before possibly sneaking into the Harvest Room to grab a conversation with the Grounder, and let him know she’d try to bring him some food from the Mess Hall.

Yawning, she stretched her arms above her head and stood. Her body groaned with the movement. Sliding out of her white coat, she placed it on its hook and lifted her pack from the ground to sling it over her shoulder.

Once she was sure no other doctors were lingering about, Clarke pulled out her keys and jogged over the Harvest Room door. Stepping inside, she checked that it was only the Grounders in there before making her way over to the familiar face.

He was asleep again and something about it made her chuckle. “Hey,” she whispered, slipping her fingers through the bars and poking at his bicep. “Get up, sleepyhead.” She poked again, this time with a little more pressure.

“Your friend isn’t going to wake up anytime soon.” The voice startled her and Clarke’s head snapped to the side, eyes training on the other Grounder that spoke.

Her hair was matted and her eyes were dark. Something about the intensity of her gaze made Clarke want to get out of her sight immediately. She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “One of the others got pulled from their cage and White Knight over here decided he needed to make it his business. Dumbass got himself a shot to the neck. The woman who did it said he’d be out until morning.”

Clarke’s stomached turned and she looked back to the Grounder. “Oh, okay.” He looked peaceful in sleep, something she hadn’t noticed that morning. She hoped that if he dreamed that it would be of his sister.

“What’s going on between you two?” The other Grounder asked, drawing Clarke’s attention back to her. “He was pretty tight lipped about it this morning. Maybe you’d care to share a little more than he did?”

Something about the Grounder gave Clarke a bad vibe and she pursed her lips. “If he’d like to share it with you, that’s on him. But I think I’ll stay tight lipped as well.” Shoulders drawn back, she didn’t give the woman another glance as she left the Harvest Room.

Her shoulders fell the moment she stepped out of the labs and into the hallway. She’d been looking forward to having a conversation with Bellamy that evening and now she wasn’t sure what she’d do to pass the time.

Just then, Monty and Jasper came bounding past her, both grabbing one of her arms and propelling her forward with them. “Come on, Dr. Griffin!” Jasper shouted, grinning broadly at her over his shoulder. “It’s movie night tonight and Monty and I got ourselves the good stuff.”

Monty beamed at her as well, offering up a shrug. “Just a little concoction we mixed up today, no big deal.”

Barely keeping her feet under her, Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. Monty and Jasper were two peas in a pod. Always getting into trouble, always cracking jokes, the two of them were easily the biggest troublemakers in Mount Weather. Not that anyone really minded too much. They were both good hearted guys, so it was easy to overlook a couple of flaws.

“So, either of you going to tell me where we’re going?” Clarke asked, finally getting herself balanced well enough that she could run while still being held between her two friends.

“Didn’t you hear Jasper?” Monty asked, shaking his black bangs from his eyes. “It’s movie night, which means we’re headed to the commons.”

Of course. Clarke had completely forgotten. Movie night came around once a month, but everyone loved it. A movie from the archives was always selected at random and they’d get to watch it in the commons. They’d managed to learn how to project it onto two screens, and so while Common Room One was given to anyone twenty-five and older, Common Room Two was left for anyone twenty-five and younger, and a few chaperones, of course.

It hadn’t exactly been how she’d wanted to spend her night, but it would still be a good time. She hadn’t had the chance to see most of her friends in a while, and this would be the best time to do so.

“Okay, hurry up then!” She laughed, pulling from their grasps and lurching ahead. In better shape than both the boys at her side, Clarke was off and running towards the elevator that’d lead her to floor 601.

Entering the commons, Clarke wasn’t surprised to find Wells and Raven already making themselves comfortable in one of the back rows of the room. Pillows, blankets, chairs, and the like were all scattered about, everyone wanting to find the perfect spot in the room before the lights went out and the movie was projected onto the large, white wall in front of them.

“Hey, Clarke!” Raven said, spotting her across the room. Lifting a hand, she waved her over.

Smiling, Clarke headed their way and plopped down into the makeshift bed they’d created. “How long have you two been here?” She asked, looking around the little area they’d nabbed. At least six pillows had been placed for them, with two large blankets on the ground and another two to be used to cover with.

“About forty minutes,” Wells admitted. “I thought you’d have been here a while ago. Late night in the office, Doctor?” He sent her a teasing wink, earning himself a roll of her eyes.

“Actually, yes. I wanted to stay behind to finish some patient records. I’d actually forgotten about Movie Night,” she confessed, feeling guilty. Their little group of friends loved Movie Night.

Raven gave her a good, long look. “There something on your mind?” She asked.

Clarke shook her head. “No. I mean, yes. But it’s nothing to be worried about. And I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.” She could tell that wasn’t the answer that Raven had been hoping for, but she knew Raven wouldn’t push people. She was a rather reserved young woman herself, so she understood sometimes you wanted your privacy. Wells caught her eye too, but kept his lip shut. He knew he’d be the first person Clarke went to when she was ready.

“Okay, fine. But as soon as you’re ready to talk, let us know, go it?” She raised a dark eyebrow until Clarke nodded. “Good.”

A loud laugh caught the group’s attention, signaling that Jasper and Monty had finally caught up. They were headed towards Raven, Wells, and Clarke, still breathing heavily as they laughed together over a joke they’d exchanged.

“Jeez, Clarke,” Jasper wheezed out, flopping down onto the makeshift bed. “When were you going to tell us you were part gazelle?”

As they all got comfortable, Clarke laughed. “It doesn’t take much to outrun the two of you.”

Monty snorted, nodding his head. “She’s got a point, Jasper. We’re not in the best of shape.”

Jasper gasped, hand flying to land over his heart as his mouth dropped open. His expression was the perfect combination of feigned offense and goofiness. “Why, I _never_! I’ll have you know, these lanky limbs are in the best shape of anyone here!”

“I’ve never seen a giraffe run, Jasper, but you give me a pretty good idea of what I could expect,” Raven cut in, grinning. 

Wells choked on the popcorn he’d brought in. “A giraffe,” he repeated, laughing aloud.

Before Jasper could retort, a shush was sent out and the lights began to dim. Settling back into the pillows, they waited until the movie started up and everyone became immersed in it before Monty revealed the bottle he had in his jacket. “We’re calling it Moonshine,” he explained as the friends passed it around. “Jasper and I found an old book about it and put our own twist on it.”

As the bottle got handed to everyone, Clarke decided not to partake. She’d have to be up early the next morning and while she was almost always ready to try whatever Jasper and Monty had come up with, she knew it wasn’t worth the risk this time.

“It tastes like blueberries,” Wells commented, wiping his hand along his mouth. He gave the bottle to Raven, who quickly tipped it back and took a long drink.

Swallowing, she nodded and gave the bottle back to Jasper. “Yeah, I taste it too.”

Jasper and Monty exchanged a look. “That’s weird,” Jasper said. “We didn’t add any extra flavoring. Maybe it was the way everything came together?” He took a swig of it himself. “Oh hey, it does!” He exclaimed, handing it to his dark haired friend.

“Wait, you two have never tried it?” Wells asked, looking to Clarke and Raven, the three of them sharing a look of dismay.

Monty tipped the bottle back to try his first taste. “Nope. We were afraid we’d be too biased.” Licking his lips, he nodded. “You’re right, I taste blueberries.”

Unable to help herself, Clarke threw her head back and laughed. It earned her a handful a ‘hushes’ and a few good glares from those who were watching the movie. “Okay, okay, hand it here.” She accepted the bottle and took a long gulp, wincing lightly as the liquor sent a small burn down the back of her throat, but thrilled with the flavor. It did taste like blueberries. “Wow, that’s really good,” she said, taking the cork Monty had and closing the top.

“Alright, hooligans, let’s watch this movie. Marcus Kane is over there giving us the stink eye and I don’t wanna have to explain Moonshine to him,” Raven said, gathering up some blankets for her and Clarke to share. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to watch this movie, so don’t ruin it for me.”

All feeling a little giddy from the drink, they giggle but nodded at Raven’s demand. 


End file.
